* * *
My sleepthat night was restless, even with my sleep aids. I had a recurring nightmare that my sister and I were running away from Rabids, but she kept tripping in our mad dash to get away and slowing us down. Finally, when it seemed both of us would not escape their pursuit, I told her to carry on without me, and then I turned and faced our pursuers, drawing my knives with the intent to tear them apart, except that they all wore the face of my mother, and just as her teeth were about to sink into my flesh, I jolted awake.
“I made you coffee,” Kitten said. He was dressed in his normal day clothes—thank the Lord—and holding a mug of steaming hot coffee.
“Thanks,” I said groggily. I hadn’t had coffee in ages. It was a luxury, not a necessity.
“Were you having a bad dream?” he asked.
“Yeah, how’d you know?”
“You were all twitchy and moany.”
“Could you hear what I said?”
“No, but it sounded like trouble.”
“Sounds about right.”
I nursed my coffee while he and Teresa served breakfast. Pancakes, another indulgence. We ate together on our mound of bedding, and then Kitten announced that he had a surprise for everyone. He dashed upstairs and came back with a pillowcase slung over one shoulder and a bowlegged swagger to his walk.
“Ho, ho, ho, Merry Christmas,” he announced with glee and began passing out the contents of the sack. Gifts, for all of us. They were even wrapped with holiday paper, and some had little bows and other decorations on them. He gave one or two to each of us, then sat down in the middle to wait while we opened them.
“Where did you get all this?” I asked.
“While we were scavenging yesterday. I waited until you weren’t looking. I wanted it to be a surprise.”
He was far stealthier than I’d given him credit for. Macon’s gift was a tennis ball, Teresa received a dress and a hair bow for her baby doll, Gizmo got a spool of wire, and Artemis received two plastic containers of spices—chili powder and another called Calypso blend.
“Open yours,” Kitten said, sitting right in front of me with his head cocked to one side.
“Q-tips?” I asked as I unwrapped the festive paper.
“You kept asking me if I had any, so I thought you must need them for something.”
“For cleaning out my ears. I should clean out yours too. Maybe then you’ll hear me better.”
Grinning, he said, “Open the other one.”
I unwrapped a toothbrush, still in the plastic packaging, three Ziplocs of varying sizes, and a half-full tube of toothpaste.
“The toothbrush is new,” he said. “I had to clean out the bags, but there was nothing gross inside them. I was hoping you might share the toothpaste?” He batted his eyes. As if I could deny him good oral hygiene.
“Thank you, Kitten. This was really thoughtful of you.” There was a lump in my throat as I stared back at him, completely disarmed by the care he’d taken in selecting these gifts for each of us. “Where is your present?” I asked.
He gestured to all of us. “You all are my present. I haven’t had friends in so long. We’re friends, right?”
I nodded and he smiled. The kid had a beautiful smile—open, trusting, joyous. It was a little thing, a smile, but I knew for certain that smile was going to break me. Those expressive amber eyes would break me. His bratty sass and clueless questions and sweet, unexpected gestures, all of those would break me.
And ifanyonetried to dim the light in his eyes, I would absolutely break them.
“Stop frowning, old man,” he said and punched my shoulder playfully. “It’s Christmas.”
TEN
KITTEN
“What do you think of Cipher?”I asked Teresa. We were at the back of the pack as we left behind the fancy houses and headed toward our next destination. Cipher was in the lead, as usual, and even though his hearing was good, I didn’t think it wasthatgood. Little Miss Purrfect was draped across my shoulders, tail flicking my ear every so often.
